


Wickedness and Snares

by Maeve_of_Winter



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Detectives, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Investigations, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-27 06:30:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17761592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeve_of_Winter/pseuds/Maeve_of_Winter
Summary: Jughead makes a disturbing discovery while he and Betty are working to uncover the identity of Jason's murderer.





	Wickedness and Snares

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bloodredcherries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodredcherries/gifts).



_St. Michael the Archangel,_

_defend us in battle,_

_be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil._

-St. Michael's Prayer

* * *

At first Kevin’s name was on the list of murder suspects as just a formality.

“He discovered the body,” Jughead told Betty as he scribbled down Kevin’s name right after Cheryl’s. “When I talked to Moose, he said that it was Kevin who suggested going down to the riverbank. Ginger Lopez overheard them talking, and she confirmed it.”

It was at the riverbank where Jason’s body had finally turned up, where the grisly discovery was made that his corpse hadn’t been in the water that long, and that he had died of a broken neck instead of drowning.

“And let’s be honest,” Jughead continued. “We’ve both watched enough crime shows to know that the person who just so happens to discover the body sometimes ends up being the guy who offed the victim in the first place. It’s all about making themselves look innocent. And I know he’s your friend, but—”

“I don’t think we’re friends anymore,” Betty replied honestly. At Jughead’s questioning glance, she gave a wan shrug. “I don’t know what’s up. We used to be really close, but ever since this past spring, he’s barely been speaking to me. I don’t know if we’ve said two words to each other the entire summer.”

“Huh.” Jughead’s brow furrowed, and he found himself wondering at the change. He and Kevin had never been close; Kevin was more of Archie and Betty’s friend than his. So he hadn’t noticed Kevin pulling away from Betty, and he couldn’t help but question the estrangement.

While he didn’t honestly consider Kevin a serious suspect, he had to admit that the timing was a little bit too coincidental. Kevin had been acting oddly since the spring, and Jason had disappeared in the middle of the summer. They could be related—but they probably weren’t. Still, just for closure on the matter, he decided to check in with Archie to see what he thought.  
  
“Kevin?” Archie repeated, sparing Jughead a glance before returning to the TV screen where he was taking his turn trying to beat the Titan-controlled inmates of Arkham Asylum. “God, I don’t think we’ve talked since . . . wow, it’s been forever.” He scowled as Batman was killed, but then tossed down the controller, turning to give Jughead his full attention. “He and I stopped hanging out that much back when he started hanging out with Jason Blossom.”

Jughead reeled in surprise, wondering how he’d missed this crucial bit of information. “He and Jason were friends?”

Archie chewed on his lip, hesitating for a moment or two. “I don’t know if I’d say that, exactly,” he replied eventually, speaking slowly. “I know they were spending time together, but whenever I saw them, Kevin always seemed kind of sad. Like, desperate, in a way. And I heard him arguing with Jason.”

“What about?” Jughead asked, thoroughly intrigued, as Kevin’s name began rising through the ranks of his mental list of suspects.

Archie shrugged. “Dunno. Jason seemed angrier than Kevin. He was yelling at him. Kevin was trying to calm him down. It seemed personal, so I tried not to listen. Maybe Betty would know? She and Kevin are close.”

“Maybe,” Jughead muttered, choosing not to mention that Kevin was no longer speaking to Betty for some reason.

That was two friendships Kevin had mysteriously allowed himself to lose, and now Jughead had confirmation that Jason Blossom may have been part of the reason.

Not sure how Betty would react to the news, he kept the new information about Kevin to himself. He’d known all along that the murderer might be someone he’d known, might be one of his classmates, but as he saw the possibility beginning to unfold in reality, he suddenly found himself growing more and more shaken.

And when he and Betty slipped into Jason’s room for a clandestine search during his memorial service, Jughead didn’t mention the religious medal he spotted glinting from beneath a crack in the floorboards. Instead, he silently pocketed it to examine later, trying not to squirm with guilt as Betty worried aloud that the secret engagement they’d discovered from Nana Rose meant that Polly was a probable candidate for Jason’s murder.

Later that evening, safe in the Andrews household and away from any prying eyes for the moment, Jughead drew the medal out of his pocket to examine it. It was a blackened silver, clearly tarnished with age, and engraved with the image of an angel with a sword and holding a set of scales slaying some kind of demon. Words had been inscribed on to the very edge of the small metal circle, reading St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle.

The medal was oddly familiar, and Jughead was certain he’d seen it before, and he set it down on the table to study it, trying to concentrate and force his brain to place it. But even when he held it up to the light, letting it dangle by its chain in hopes that a new angle would stir something in his brain, he still couldn’t remember.

In was only when he and Betty were sorting through last year’s high school yearbook for candid photos of Jason, hoping to gain some new clue or suspect, that the memory jolted into his mind.

He found a photo of Jason. A photo of Jason with his arm around Kevin. And around Kevin’s neck, atop his sweater, was the St. Michael medal, the tiny figure of the angel slaying the demon just barely discernible.

Staring at the photo, Jughead was hit with the shocking reality that Kevin Keller was now his top suspect.

It was because of sincere disbelief, conviction that he must have been wrong, inability to comprehend that Kevin could truly be the murderer that he still didn’t tell Betty about his new findings.

He’d proven Kevin innocent first. Find irrefutable evidence that he hadn’t done it. And then Jughead would let her know they could cross Kevin off the suspect list.

“I always went over to Kevin’s house whenever my mom got too unbearable,” Betty had once revealed Jughead. “He left a key under the flowerpot on the front porch just for me, in case I needed someplace to go but he and his dad weren’t home.”

Later that night, after saying goodbye to Betty, Jughead made his way over to the Keller household, and, observing that neither the squad car nor the truck was in the driveway, located the key and let himself into the house.

The Keller home was well-kept and far larger than two people would ever reasonably need; Jughead forced down a stab of envy as he found himself automatically comparing its size to the tiny trailer where his father was now living. Scolding himself for getting off task, he quickly but quietly made his way up the stairs, checking the rooms until he located the one that was most assuredly Kevin’s. A carefully crafted homemade solar system mobile swayed gently from the ceiling, while hand-painted model cars were displayed proudly in a glass-paneled wooden showcase. Like the rest of the house, the room was neat and orderly, without even clothes on the floor.

Searching a tidy room, Jughead had found, could be both a curse and a blessing. If it was well-organized, the occupant was more likely to realize someone had been snooping through their things once they returned. However, a well-organized room was easier to search and thus more likely to give results while doing said snooping.

Kevin’s room was no different. Jughead’s eyes landed on a carved wooden box on his bureau, and immediately decided to see if he could find anything incriminating within. And as soon as he unhooked the swing lock on the box and flipped back the lid, he found a bunch of keepsakes and also a hospital bracelet from Greendale General, dated for the fourth of July, the last time Jason had been seen alive.

Jughead’s mind whirled as he began piecing together a motive while at the same time reminding himself that all of his evidence was circumstantial. But it seemed like far too many coincidences to be unrelated. Jason and Kevin had been spending a lot of time together back in the spring. Kevin seemed upset when he was with Jason and had stopped speaking to two of his previously close friends. Kevin’s St. Michael medal had been found in the floorboards of Jason’s bedroom. And now it turned out that Kevin had been at the hospital the day Jason had disappeared—but then, the hospital visit could also be an alibi.

Just as Jughead was struggling to process all that he knew, the door to the bedroom swung open, revealing Kevin standing in the doorway. Shock very briefly flashed across his face when he spotted Jughead rifling through his personal effects, but within seconds it was simply replaced by an expression of absolute exhaustion.

“I wondered, you know, who would come looking,” he remarked, stepping further into the room.

Jughead held himself tense, wondering what Kevin was about to say or do, very aware that he likely could be trapped in the same room as a murderer.

“Never figured it would be you, though,” Kevin continued, walking past Jughead and pulling out the chair at his desk, sinking down into the seat. “So, what led you to me?”

Jughead eyed him apprehensively, attempting to keep calm while his heart hammered in his chest. “Is that a confession?”

Kevin sent him a look that was somewhat amused but mostly tired, his eyes seeming far older than his years. “No. Ask me anything you want, but this is all hypothetical. I maintain my innocence.” Sarcasm was clear in his voice during the last sentence.

Jughead narrowed his eyes at him, but still reached into his pocket, withdrawing the St. Michael necklace and holding it up for Kevin to see. “You were always one of the suspects. But when I found this medal in Jason’s room and realized it belonged to you, then I decided to look at you more closely.”

“Which is why you’re here now. Huh.” Kevin stared at the medal, watching it twist and turn on its chain. “My father gave that to me for my Confirmation, you know. It was his and he passed it on to me.” He gave a humorless smile. “I’d thought that I’d lost it. Was Jason hiding it from me all along?”

“I don’t think so,” Jughead answered carefully, still watching Kevin closely. “I found it between the floorboards. It looked like it had fallen there.”

Kevin dragged a hand down his face. “Must have fallen off when he was hitting me,” he muttered, more to himself than Jughead.

Jughead paused, studying Kevin as he processed the new information. “He hit you?”

Sending an unreadable glance Jughead’s way, Kevin let a few moment go by before responding, seeming to consider if he wanted the conversation to continue or not. But eventually, he did reply.

“Hypothetically speaking, yes. He did.” Bitterness entered Kevin’s voice, and he turned away to gaze out the window, his gaze remaining fixed, as if he were in a trance. “And hypothetically, I was too naïve and foolish to mind that he was hitting me or that he was keeping me secret just like he was keeping Polly a secret. At first, I was just too happy that someone, anyone at all, was paying attention to me. I stupidly gave up my friends so I could give Jason all of my time and attention. I thought—well, I thought—” Kevin swallowed, looking away. “I thought at first that if I could prove myself to him, if I could convince him to love me, that he’d want to date me in public. And then, when he started hitting me, I still thought I could make him love me if I showed how much I was devoted to him.” He let out a laugh that didn’t have a trace of joy. “My God, I was an idiot. And I realized just how much of one I’d been when I found out that the only reason he was keeping me a secret was because he was screwing Polly on the sly and wanted to run away with her.”

For a moment, Jughead was silent, simply absorbing all that Kevin had told him, letting him talk. But patience had never been one of his strong suits, so he decided to ask the question that was burning in his mind. “Is that why you killed him? Because you realized he was cheating on you for Polly?”

Kevin seemed to snap out of whatever thoughts he was lost within, and he turned back to face Jughead, his jaw set. “Hypothetically, I never planned to kill Jason. I was driving back from Greendale, taking the back way to avoid being seen. I’d been at the hospital to get stitches after he’d . . . been rough with me the night before. And wouldn’t you know it? There I was driving along, only to find Jason waiting right there. And that spot where he was going to meet Polly? I showed him that. I’d showed him that, but he was using it to meet her.”

“Then what?” Adrenaline was rushing through Jughead’s veins. He could barely believe it; he was finally getting the answers he and Betty had been searching for.

“Stopped the car. Got out. Confronted him. And then, well . . .” Kevin looked directly at Jughead. “I’m sure you can guess. You knew he was violent. He was the ringleader of your bullies, after all.”

Faint embarrassment stirred within Jughead at the reminder, but he pushed it away. “He hit you again. Didn’t he?” He stared at Kevin, his astonishment ebbing away. Much to Jughead’s surprise, rather than being replaced by horror or disgust, he found himself feeling a distinct sympathy for Kevin. He himself had known how needlessly cruel Jason could be. It wasn’t surprising in the slightest to hear that he’d been an abuser. He found himself wondering Jason had been hitting Polly as well, if maybe the Coopers had been right to send her away to protect her.

Kevin’s green eyes clouded over as he stared off into space, and Jughead’s stomach twisted in discomfort as he realized Kevin was probably reliving the moment.

“He hit me,” he confirmed. “Again. And again. And again. This time, he wouldn’t stop. And I tried to get away. I tried to run. I tried . . .” he trailed off, and heavy silence hung in the air before he continued.

“He followed me.” Kevin’s voice was barely above a whisper, a wretched look on his face. “We were right by the cliffs, right by the edge, and he managed to catch up with me. He tackled me and just kept on hitting me. But then I finally managed to land a punch. And then I kicked him. Once. Twice. A bunch of times. So he finally backed off. He backed away, but he couldn’t see very well. He was in too much pain. So he stumbled off. Right over the edge of the cliff.”

Jughead’s stomach dropped like he’d been plunged into freefall himself. “Hypothetically.”

The faintest trace of a smile tugged at Kevin’s lips. “Yes.”

Jughead let out a long exhale, his breathing suddenly fast and hard. “Jesus. So that’s what happened.”

He hadn’t expected to find all of the answers to Jason’s murder tonight, but he had. And in all honesty, he couldn’t help but be satisfied with the conclusion. A bully had gotten what he deserved. Jason Blossom had spent years being vicious to Jughead. He’d manipulated Kevin and used their secret relationship to so he could beat him without consequence. God only knew what he might have done to Polly one he’d gotten his hands on her.

Taking in several deep breaths to calm himself, Jughead cleared his throat. “How was it that it was you who found Jason’s body? The chances of that had to be, like, one in a million.”

Kevin shook his head. “I don’t know,” he responded simply. “I didn’t think Jason would ever turn up. It had been two months since he’d died. But then I go down to the river, and there he was. Like a recurring tumor I just can’t cut out of my life.”

Even with as much information that swirling in his brain, Jughead couldn’t help but mentally scoff in disbelief that the event that had even led him to consider Kevin a suspect was just a coincidence after all. What a strange world it really was.

Kevin’s gaze rested on Jughead. “So, Jones. You’ve got theories. You have evidence that could be used against me. What are you going to do?”

While he knew he should take a moment to weigh his options, deep down, Jughead had already made his decision.

He turned toward the door. “It’s a very interesting and plausible story, Kevin. But like you said, it’s all hypothetical.”

As he headed for the door, he heard Kevin let out a sigh, but he couldn’t tell if it was from weariness or relief. Then Kevin called out to him.

“Before you go—my St. Michael medal. Could I have it back?” Kevin stood, and when Jughead looked back at him, he saw that he was extending a hand. “He’s the patron saint of police officers, and I like to wear it for my dad.”

Without thinking much about it, Jughead handed over the medal, placing it into Kevin’s waiting palm.

“You know,” he found himself saying. “Archie and Betty both miss you. If you ever wanted to start hanging out with them again, I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

He turned away for a second time then, and he had almost left the room when Kevin spoke again.

“Follow the money.”

Puzzled, Jughead looked back at him with a furrowed brow. “Pardon?”

“Follow the money,” Kevin repeated. “Wherever the Coopers sent Polly off to, they’re probably paying for it. Check their bank statements, their checkbooks—see if you can find some sort of money trail to a juvenile home or a boarding school or something.” He tried his best to offer Jughead a smile. “I know Betty misses her, but you two should be able to find her.”

“Bank statements. Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Jughead realized, new determination flowing through him. “Thanks, Kevin.”

Kevin just nodded his farewell, and Jughead raced down the stairs and out of the Keller house, already fumbling with his phone to text Betty about Polly.

 


End file.
